


The Blessed Sacrament of Adoration

by chocolatemudkip



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Angel Sex, Body Worship, Campaign (Podcast): Skyjacks - Freeform, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Other, Size Difference, Song: Take Me To Church (Hozier)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 07:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19719451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatemudkip/pseuds/chocolatemudkip
Summary: Although Dref Wormwood is no longer a cleric of the church of the slain god, he still finds himself regularly attending worship.





	The Blessed Sacrament of Adoration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EgNogg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgNogg/gifts).



> "The time you spend in the Blessed Sacrament is the best time you will spend on earth. Each moment that you spend with the divine will deepen your union and make your soul everlastingly more glorious and beautiful in Heaven, and will help bring about everlasting peace on earth."  
> \- Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta
> 
> "Here are some steps to help you prepare for a Holy Hour with the divine. Step 1: Prep-work. Step 2: Enter in. Step 3: Practice Prayer. Step 4: Thank God. Step 5: Remember."
> 
> Don't Believe Me? Read It Here: https://www.stmarymokena.org/media/1/29/AdorationBooklet.pdf

The spice of incense burns thick in the room. As smoke weaves around the small space of the cabin, it shadows the pale-bright form on the floor. A man is crouched there, thin, almost sickly so, his skeletal ribs poking through the skin. He is shaking with reverence. _"_ _Blessings upon the feet of my messenger,"_ Dref Wormwood breathes, reciting the words of the psalm from memory, _"Beautiful are the feet of those who walk in my light."_ With an enraptured look on his face, he receives one long, foot from the person above him. 

Gable--towering, radiant, seven tall--leans back and sighs. They have an other-worldly quality about their presence, and as they sit there, splayed naked and open, their smile is beatific as heaven. " _Dref,"_ Gable says. A whispered encouragement to their admirer. "Please." 

Dref shivers and responds by kissing the foot. As a young man, he'd devoted his life to The Church. He'd wore the purples and reds of the clerical silk, said his prayers and lit candles to the Slain God. Now, those robes lay, forgotten, at the foot of his bed. Now, when he reaches out to the holy, someone reaches back, warm, in the flesh. The flesh of an angel. " _Mmmnn,"_ Gable sighs, voice soft and longing. "That's _lovely."_

Dref dares to glance up at them. The angel's hair, silver-white falls down to past their waist. It pours over their powerful shoulders, falls down along their soft curve of breasts, dances around their cut of abdominal muscles. It pools in a mass at their sensual hips, framing a dripping and solid erection--one that could only be described as _divine._ "More?" Gable asks, tender and hopeful. 

Hurriedly, Dref snaps out of his gaze, dropping his mouth to the tip of their toe. Gable is always gentle--but it's _still_ a commandment. A voice from god above. "Y-yes," Dref replies, obeying in word and deed. He flicks his tongue out to taste the sweet flesh. He sucks a soft kiss, full of adoration and longing. _"Mighty are your deeds,"_ Dref says, returning to the chant of the Psalm. _"M_ _ighty are the deeds of those who praise me."_ At these words, Gable groans, and they ghosts one long, shaking hand over their face. 

Dref carefully works his hands with his mouth. He smoothes them up the archway of Gable's long foot; _for someone so tall and powerful,_ Dref thinks, _Gable is delicate._ He caresses the tendons with his greatest care. He works his prayer from archway to heel, from heel to calf. _"Mighty are your deeds,"_ he whispers again, _"And mighty are those who walk in my pathways."_

Dref knows that, on his own, he speaks like a fool; he stumbles a word, he staggers a phrase. But, _now_ \--at the foot of his alter--in this holiest place of _worship_ \--Dref finds himself perfect in this time of praise.Every word, every action, is worthy of angels. Every movement, every touch, is truly ordained.

As Gable's breath takes a heavier draf, Dref deepens the pressure of his fingertips. More fervent now, he works circles of praise through their heel and calf. _"Unmatched are the powerful acts of my chosen,"_ Dref intones, and Gable gives a pleasured sigh. _"Unfathomable are my works in and through them."_

 _"Dref..."_ Gable says, sounding quite touched.

As their intakes of breath begin to quicken, Dref cannot keep himself from the urge to taste more. He drops his head to a bow, laves his tongue on their warm and flexing thigh flesh. When Gable gives a soft moan of consent, Dref opens his mouth, his teeth brushing along the shield of tan skin. _"How perfect is your sheltering care,"_ Dref intones, his mouth hot against their shivering skin. " _How great is the gift of your sheltering wings."_

 _"Oh!"_ Gable exclaims, a sound of delight. Dref cannot help but look up at this: and the sight of Gable, so brilliantly beautiful, so flushed with delight, nearly strikes him dead. Swollen lips, bitten and filled; angelic cheekbones, rosy and flush; eyelashes, silver eyelashes, _endless._ The shimmer of ethereal wings, just out of sight, brushing upwards past him and the heavens. Gable's eyes flicker open, sun skirting the clouds. "Yes?" They ask fondly. They seem to enjoy this. Enjoy _him._

"I a-d- _dore_ you," Dref admits, dropping his gaze.

He is flushing, ashamed: it is not his place to speak words of his own longing to the divine! This time must be about deference to the almighty--of showing his devotion to god, in all of god's sacred forms--not about his selfish wants or creature desires! He is, no he was, a man of the cloth. And therefor, a servant of the most-high angels (not equal! not love-worthy!). 

So Dref is surprised when a strong, callused hand brush his chin, tilt it toward them. "Then _show_ me," Gable says, soft and inviting. _"_ Touch me, _more_. Kiss me, _more!_ " They gather Dref's hands, Dref's body in their own; and then, slowly, gracefully, move them together. 

_"Oh, m-my g-god!"_ Dref gasps, as Gable seats him in their lap. Gable directs his hands over their body with slow dragging touches: over their chest, with plush, modest breasts; over their hips, with flexing, supple muscle; between solid thighs, where a perfect erection awaits. It is beaded at the head with a cloud-white pearl of pre-cum. 

"I'm here, Dref," Gable says softly into Dref's ear. "I'm right here, with you." Dref gives a sharp intake of breath as Gable directs his hands to their cock. As his spindly hands wrap around that velvety shaft, Dref can do nothing but sway in astonishment, breathless with joy. _"O-hh, my g-god-d...!"_ He repeats again. Dref has been hoping, has been _praying_ , that he might have a chance to worship Gable's body in some manner or form--but _never_ had he _dreamed_ that he would be invited to this kind of _intimacy!_

 _"_ Breathe with me, dear one," Gable commands. Dref obeys as Gable pulls Dref ever closer into their lap, shifting him so that he can rest his head on their shoulder. When the close-cut stubble of his skull meets their arm, it feels like a sin; and, for one horrible moment, Dref is worried that he disgusts Gable.

However, his worry melts away into wonder as Gable wraps one long-fingered hand around their cock and his, collecting them both into one, divine stroke. "Move with me," Gable instructs, kind but firm. Dref lets out a shuddering sigh of delight as he feels his hand stroking against Gable's shaft. Gable's fingers are interlaced with his own and applying strong pressure to them both, and Dref feels the spasmodic jolt of his hips engage beneath him. Each moment, each touch, is new and unparalleled: pure ecstasy: a blessed communion. 

"You're loved," Gable says, taking their free hand to stroke over Dref's back and head. "You're cherished, and loved." It might sound unnatural anywhere else: but here, being held against the chest of an angel, Dref has never felt more reassurance. 

" _Mmmnn,"_ Dref moans, a soft, needy thing. 

"You're good," Gable says--and it turns out, this is something that Dref has been yearning to hear, deep inside, locked up and wanting. Upon Gable's words, he shudders with pleasure and delight, and he lets his head roll back and his eyes close in comfort. Gable notices as Dref's heart begins to hammer three-fold, his already flush cheeks reddening with color. They make a satisfied sound, moving their lips to the shell of his ear. "You're so very good, Dref," the heavenly being sighs, stroking their shafts with love over and over. 

Dref feels his voice growing in pitch. It takes on a whine, and the pace of their pulling him off becomes faster. Dref finds himself panting, jaw hanging open and loose in the heat. "That's it," Gable says, kindly and loving. "That's it, my darling. Let yourself be known." When he makes a sobbing sort of sound, Gable strokes a protective hand over his head. 

Something jagged and broken inside of Dref Wormwood is being healed. It's as if a heavenly light is shining right through him: the force of light lifting, re-building, re-binding. Dref moans, his body responding in a powerful way. He feels _so much._ He feels _so good._ It's been so very long since he has been cared for. 

"I've got you, Dref." Gable says, holding him close. "I'm right here with you. It's okay. Let go." 

Their words are enough to carry him over: Dref comes, chest heaving and tears on his face. As he sobs, jumbled prayer, Gable cradles his body. They rock the doctor in soft, soothing motions against their tall form, echoes of the sea Skyjacks left long ago. "That's it," they say, achingly tender. "That's it. I'm here. I'm close to you, now." 

They stay this way for some time, although Gable is still hard as stone. There is no demand: only time and space together. But when Dref does finally stir, wiping his face, he becomes embarrassed and flustered all over again. 

"Y-you're n-not!--" He gesturing lamely at Gable's erection. 

"I'm _fine,_ " Gable says, gently annoyed. "My kind has long known for...endurance."

With one still-slippery hand, Gable strokes themselves back into firmness. Dref watches, enchanted, as their long fingers work up a faster and much harder rhythm. "C-can...can I h-help?" he asks, breathless. Gable grins.

Where there were anxious and tentative touches before, Dref now pounds his hands against Gable's form. They have worked their way up to a fearsome rhythm, and are still going: two-handed, Dref finds himself sweating. Gable's breath washes over him from above, hot and heavy; and the squelching noises that come from their pleasure are enough to make even Travis Matigot blush. 

"I think--" Gable begins, soft, as not to scare Dref, when the human lets out a loud moan of wanting. They look at him: he is shaking all over, wide at eyes, all of his religious fervor returned. "I'm close," Gable breathes, delighted. " _Talk to me."_

" _You and I, I and you, we are one,"_ Dref intones. The prayer makes Gable shudder and groan. _"Forever, I am within you, beloved. Always, I shall guide you in your ways."_ The combination of Dref's sweet words, urgent hands, finally does it for them: Gable comes, and even this is graceful. They arch, silently, coating them both in a sheet of a pure white. 

Gable pulls out of Dref's clinging grasp and smiles with amusement. Dref is sputtering beneath the impressive spray, blinking back his surprise from thick glasses. "Ah-ahhh-- I suppose that I'm--" 

"Sorry," Gable says demurely, "another one of those...angel things." 

Dref looks up, his face one of radient devotion. "You're _p-perfect."_ He says, a prayer of his own. 

"As you are, dear one." Gable smiles, brushing a hand over Dref's head. For a long moment, they gaze into one another's eyes--and then, they draw Dref in for a kiss. It is long, and deep, and could make a man whole. 

When they break away, Dref looks like he might be divine himself. "I-I n-never-r t-thought--" Dref begins, his world bright and spinning.

"Next time," Gable sighs. "I'd like you inside of me." 

**Author's Note:**

> *From what I understand, Gable is genderfluid, and so I sometimes take turns using he, she and they pronouns. I don't mean to cause anyone confusion or offense. 
> 
> **I'm a religious person myself, so writing this irreverent, kinky nonsense made me SWEATY. Hope ya'll like it, too!


End file.
